Goats
by Sasparilla123
Summary: Seamus is bored, drunk, and needs someone to talk to. Involves a goat, a dirty sock, much snoring and a little mild earwax.  No slash. Not even a little. Not even a itty bitty hinty smidgen of slash. Sorry.


**Disclaimer: ** _Thesaurus: _Noun; 1. A disclaimer of responsibility denial, refusal, rejection. Antonym: acceptance, acknowledgment. 2. Law : a deed of disclaimer renunciation,relinquishment, resignation, abdication; repudiation,abjuration, disavowal.

**Well, honestly. If I was J. K. Rowling, I would be busy riding on my pet unicorn and laughing at mere mortals.**

* * *

Goats. (Or, Why Seamus Finnigan Should Generally Be Kept Away From Alcohol.)

Seamus was bored. Really bored. It was half past three on a Wednesday morning, and he was so bored, he could actually feel his brain starting to shrivel up and leak out of his ears.

Wait. That might actually have had something to do with those sixth-year Ravenclaws and that bottle of Firewhisky and the silly trip up to the Astronomy tower to look at some, ahem, 'stars'…

Come to think of it, he was still feeling a little tipsy. Seamus levered himself up from where he was crumpled at the foot of his bed and peered owlishly around the dormitory. Sleeping while drunk was completely impossible, he'd discovered recently, and he needed someone to talk to. Who was he going to bother tonight?

Neville was lying spread-eagled on his back, mouth wide open, snoring louder than a hippogriff. A thin, shimmering string of drool dangled from a corner of his mouth and pooled on the collar of his pajamas. _That's a nooooo_, Seamus thought to himself.

Harry had his head buried under a pile of at least four pillows (_Hey! That one with the green bit's mine!) _and seemed to be twitching violently every twenty seconds or so. Seamus shook his head. _Harry's too twitchy. Don't wanna be twitched on. No._

Dean, who'd also gotten on the wrong end of a little too much liquor, was taking it a lot worse than Seamus had. He was sort of twisted across his bed in an uncomfortable tangle of limbs and books, his head touching the floor. _Hmm. I didn't know elbows could bend like that. Or knees. Or pelvises, for that matter..._

That only left-

"Hey! Ron! _Ron! _Ronny Ron of Ronny Ronsville! You awake?" Seamus bounded across the room happily and prodded Ron in the shoulder with what seemed to be a petrified sock.

"Nnnn...M'sleepin...g'way…" A reproachful eye blinked up at Seamus.

"I've. Got. _Chocolate._"

The eye blinked again, blearily. "Mmph...Cho'cli…" Ron bolted upright, sleep forgotten. "CHOCOLATE." He began patting down Seamus, searching. "Where is it, where is it, blimey, haven't had any since _yesterday evening_, oh, I hope it's that kind from Honeydukes with the little blue chewy bits in, _ I love the chewy bits_…"

"Actually, I don't have any." Seamus rolled his eyes and dropped the mummified sock, which hit the floor with a disconcerting thunk. "I was _bored. _I needed someone to talk to."

Ron's eye started to twitch. "What do you mean?" he asked, as if he couldn't quite understand the words coming out of the other boy's mouth. He inserted a finger into his ear and wiggled it around, hoping to dislodge some of the wax that was in there, because what he had just heard _had _to have been a mistake.

Seamus giggled. "Ha! You're twitching too. Don't twitch on me!" His alcohol-addled mind failed to comprehend the true magnitude of the fury he had unleashed. Or maybe it did and he was just too sloshed to care.

Ron stopped digging around in his ear like a goblin looking for gold. He picked up his wand, still twitching slightly. "There's no chocolate. _There's no chocolate._" This was said in the kind of scary-calm voice you usually hear before getting a year's worth of detention, or before someone Transfigures you into a goat. Seamus, being absolutely pissed as a chook, totally missed this.

"_Teehee_! Twitchy witchy's getting bitchy!"

* * *

And _that, _boys and girls, was how Seamus Finnagan (often referred to as one of the more attractive boys in Gryffindor) ended up having to communicate in frantic bleating for a whole week.

The End

**A/N: This is a oneshot at the mo, but I might write another scene or two if anyone's interested. Hey! Novel thought here - if you liked it (or if you didn't) - please review! It's not that hard, and it really makes my day. **

**So.**

** Doooo it.**


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